Tim Ferriss: Sustenance in balanced life

Sunday Profile: Timothy Ferriss

Published 10:45 pm, Saturday, December 1, 2012

Author of, "The 4-Hour Chef," Tim Ferriss talks about his life in his San Francisco, Calif., home on Monday, Nov. 5, 2012.

Author of, "The 4-Hour Chef," Tim Ferriss talks about his life in his San Francisco, Calif., home on Monday, Nov. 5, 2012.

Photo: Russell Yip, The Chronicle

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Timothy Ferriss is home in San Francisco for only about three months of the year. His recently released third book is "The 4-Hour Chef: The Simple Path to Cooking Like a Pro, Learning Anything, and Living the Good Life." less

Timothy Ferriss is home in San Francisco for only about three months of the year. His recently released third book is "The 4-Hour Chef: The Simple Path to Cooking Like a Pro, Learning Anything, and Living the ... more

Photo: Russell Yip, The Chronicle

Tim Ferriss: Sustenance in balanced life

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Timothy Ferriss, the 35-year-old self-help guru whose "4-Hour" lifestyle makeover books have dominated best-seller lists since the last Bush administration, seeks perfection in everything, even his morning cup of coffee.

In his rented San Francisco apartment in Glen Park, where he lives when he isn't hunting caribou in Alaska or scuba diving in Panama, he uses a scale and probe thermometer to mix exactly 12 grams of coffee with 200 grams of water at 180 degrees into a contraption that looks like part of a hamster tunnel system.

"This is the AeroPress!" he says, holding up an interlocking plastic tube gizmo with the thinnest micro-filter available, developed by a mechanical engineer who lectures at Stanford University.

"World barista champions use the AeroPress to make coffee on the folding tray tables of airplanes," he said, offering a sip.

It does taste rather flawless. The recipe is in his recently released third book: "The 4-Hour Chef: The Simple Path to Cooking Like a Pro, Learning Anything, and Living the Good Life."

Following the principle that he can teach himself to do anything, whether it's how to set a Guinness World Record for tango spinning, to become a national Chinese kickboxing champion, or to work less and quadruple his income, Ferriss uses himself as a guinea pig to sell millions of books to readers looking for a shortcut out of the "9-to-5 retirement prison."

Fans and skeptics

In "The 4-Hour Workweek: Escape 9-5, Live Anywhere, and Join the New Rich," he posited that there's no need to wait for retirement to have the life you've always wanted. He drew legions of fans, many of them younger men like himself trapped in punishing Silicon Valley startup jobs who were ready to hear Ferriss' solution: Work less by working smarter, outsourcing work to virtual assistants, checking e-mail only once a day, and dropping needy, time-wasting clients, thus freeing up time to travel the world and bring more balance to life.

The book was translated into 35 languages, and elevated the former nutritional supplements company owner to messiah status, complete with stalker fans, death threats, and invitations to speak at Princeton and TED conferences. He now sits on the faculty of Singularity University, a global technology think tank at NASA Ames Research Center at Moffett Field.

He followed with "The 4-Hour Body: An Uncommon Guide to Rapid Fat-Loss, Incredible Sex, and Becoming Superhuman," which offered a quick route to six-pack abs and 15-minute female orgasms.

His writing has fostered a healthy number of skeptics, who liken the sound-bite-speaking Ferriss to the P.T. Barnum of our times.

"I think it's a compliment, actually," said Ferriss, sinking into the cushions of his living room chair, covered by the deerskin of his first hunting expedition, under the tutelage of Steven Rinella ("Meat Eater: Adventures From the Life of an American Hunter").

"What I don't like is snark for snark's sake. If you are going to make fun of me, at least be witty while doing it."

One of the best lines he ever read about himself was from New York Times Book Critic Dwight Garner: "The 4-Hour Body reads as if The New England Journal of Medicine had been hijacked by the editors of the SkyMall catalog. Some of this junk might actually work, but you're going to be embarrassed doing it or admitting to your friends that you're trying it."

Protecting his luggage

When Ferriss advised airline passengers in a 2012 New York Times travel story to put an unloaded starter pistol in checked luggage to ensure the airline won't lose it, New York Times op-ed columnist Frank Bruni held up Ferriss as exhibit A in the epic narcissism sweeping the country, where living in a civic vacuum is mistaken for individualism.

"I got that idea from professional photographers who don't want to lose $20,000 worth of camera equipment," Ferriss said. "People took that out of context - I didn't say, 'Do it in the security line.' You simply say you have a firearm to declare at the bag counter, and a TSA person pulls you aside and puts a tag on your bag. That's it. You don't hold up any lines."

In a snarky nod to his critics, Ferriss borrowed a line from Bruni for the dust jacket of his latest book.

There, beneath accolades from top chefs, are Bruni's words: "Tim Ferriss is a master of air as well as earth."

"The 4-Hour Chef" promises to teach the microwave masses six months of culinary school in 48 hours - everything from how to chop vegetables to how to survive in the wilderness by sleeping in a debris cave fashioned from branches and foliage and fending off starvation by gutting and cooking tree rats. Once back from expedition, readers can mix themselves the ultimate Renaissance man drink: cigar-infused Tequila hot chocolate.

When asked what qualifies him to write about food, Ferriss answers, "Absolutely nothing. But I do know something about learning. So I thought it would be interesting to apply that to something I'm crappy at."

Even as a teenager, Ferriss was obsessed with learning more efficient ways to do things, said John Buxton, his former wrestling coach at St. Paul's School, an elite boarding school in New Hampshire.

"He spent his junior year in Japan to learn new martial arts techniques," Buxton said. "One time I walked into the gym and found him with 400 pounds on the bench press. He said he could get better intensity if he moved it an inch once instead of pressing 250 pounds six times."

Ferriss grew up in East Hampton, N.Y., in a middle-class family. His father is a real estate broker and his mother is a physical therapist for seniors.

Not top-scoring student

Despite SAT scores 40 percent lower than average (he couldn't finish the test, because the questions made him ponder too much), he believes he got into Princeton based on the uniqueness of his essay. He wrote about being invited to spar with a sumo wrestler while in Japan, and the lessons he learned about courage when the odds appear stacked against you.

"I couldn't match other students based on SAT scores, but I could be different," he said.

His exchange trip to Japan was transformative, showing him for the first time how cultural rules are arbitrary. The Japanese peeled grapes before eating them. They showered before bathing. Ferriss began questioning every habit he had.

His acceptance into Princeton inspired him to try his first business venture, an audiobook, "How I Beat the Ivy League," but there were no takers for his 500 audiotapes.

Next Ferriss tried hosting speed-reading seminars on campus, and although he made $533 an hour teaching, he quit because he found it unfulfilling. He took a leave from Princeton and went to Taiwan, where he tried and failed to start a chain of gyms. He returned to the United States and took up Chinese kickboxing, and won the 1999 national championship by capitalizing on a technicality: If his opponent fell off the elevated platform three times in one round, they were disqualified. Ferriss pushed his competitor off three times, and won by default.

"I took a lot of flak for that, but it's now part of the strategy of the sport," Ferriss said. "When Olympic champion Dick Fosbury was the first to twist his body and fly backward over the high jump in 1968, he permanently altered the sport."

Ferriss graduated from Princeton in 2000 with a degree in East Asian studies and relocated to the Bay Area, following friends who had become overnight high-tech millionaires.

Early ideas on food

He worked in Silicon Valley in sales for a data-storage startup, and found himself working 12-hour days, sometimes catching only five hours of sleep under his desk. Demoralized, he began surfing the Internet for new job ideas, and in 2001 he founded BrainQUICKEN, a sports nutrition company marketed to students to improve memory. It didn't take off until he rebranded it BodyQUICK and targeted athletes. He went from making $40,000 a year at the startup job to $40,000 a month running his own company.

"But I'd painted myself into a corner," Ferriss said. "Instead of a boss telling me to go home and get some sleep, I already was home. My girlfriend made a sign for my desk that said, 'Business hours end at 5 p.m.' Soon after that, she broke up with me."

Just like he had temporarily quit Princeton, Ferriss packed up again, this time for London, to wander the streets and figure out how to save his life. His stay become indefinite, as he started an experiment to remove himself from his company, limiting e-mail to an hour each Monday, farming out smaller tasks to virtual assistants, and letting time-consuming clients go. Once his company was largely on autopilot, his profits increased and he was free. He took up tango lessons in Buenos Aires.

Then he decided to write a book. "The 4-Hour Workweek" did so well, he sold BodyQUICK two years later.

He admits it's harder these days to follow his own advice and keep work and life in balance when there are so many requests for his time.

"Right now, I'm working nonstop promoting '4-Hour Chef,' but I'm going to spend all of February in Polynesia," he said. "I work hard, but in spurts."

And when Ferriss works, it looks an awful lot like play. For "The 4-Hour Chef," he devised a food marathon in Manhattan, setting out to eat 26.2 dishes in 26 locations, in 24 hours. He chose as his guide Jeffrey Zurofsky, owner of 'Wichcraft restaurants.

"His process for learning is fascinating," Zurofsky said. "Watching him go from the equivalent of culinary reverse to keeping up with high-speed traffic, how quickly his learning curve scales up is what is so unique about Tim. He's able to digest things, literally and physically, and process them into building blocks and come out on the other end with incredible confidence."

Ferriss and Zurofsky beat the marathon clock, by splitting plates, taking power naps, leaving some behind on their plates, and downing supplements that speed digestion.

It was just one of hundreds of food and body experiments that Ferriss tried for the book. More than 50 people helped him execute and produce "The 4-Hour Chef," yet Ferriss says all the writing is his. He did try to outsource some of it, but ended up scratching the idea because he found it lacked his voice.

One day in the future, Ferriss said, he plans to settle down, have kids, and stop using his body as a laboratory. He's been dating the same woman for the past 18 months, which he says with a touch of pride.

Meanwhile, he's happy in his Zen-like apartment with its interior tropical garden, Asian minimalist furniture with a suit of kendo armor near the door, and one of his few luxuries: dozens and dozens of pairs of shoes. Stacks of crossbows and arrows with campfire-marshmallow-like foam tips were stacked by the fireplace.

"You can play 'Hunger Games' in Golden Gate Park with your friends!" he said.

Ferriss still drives a secondhand 2004 Volkswagen Golf with a missing antenna (someone stole it), and isn't bothered by the occasional cupboard door that comes unhinged, or the moaning foghorn basement water heater of his 1970s apartment. He's only home about three months out of the year, and besides, he values experiences over stuff.

His next idea is a TV show where he tries to learn new skills, and viewers can watch him succeed or fail.

"I want to ride the Wheel of Death - those two spinning wheels connected by an axis on Cirque du Soleil," he said.

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